


One Stop Shop

by kee_writestrashh



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Humor, Modern Era, Ramsay is His Own Warning, a day in the life of ramsay, i made a funny, ramsay shenanigans, wrong mail address
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 14:28:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17388074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kee_writestrashh/pseuds/kee_writestrashh
Summary: Ramsay has found an easier way to order things.





	One Stop Shop

**Author's Note:**

> **Author’s note: the idea for this was based off an accidental delivery of a magazine to my PO Box (contents of the magazine are the same; name of the company has been changed). I wrote this for giggles, because Modern!Ramsay is a hoot.

The door opened and Ramsay jumped, stuffing the magazine out of sight, but gave a small sigh when he saw it was only Damon. “Jesus dude, don’t you knock?”

“How long have we known each other?” Damon shrugged, plopping himself down in the armchair across from Ramsay, propping his feet up on the corner of the desk. “So, whatcha hiding? You know not to hide the Playboys from me.”

Ramsay snorted, “Playboy is outdated. Like we don’t use pornhub. Pretty sure I pay your subscription my guy.” 

Damon gave a casual shrug, unabashed and unashamed at the facts.

Ramsay gave a haughty sniff and pulled the magazine out again. It was easily as thick as a small town phone book. Damon leaned forward to look at the cover. He squinted, his heavy, glazed eyes focusing to make out the words upside down.

“BuyLine.” He said slowly, eyes traveling further down the cover. “Huge tape selection pages 674-720. He then glanced up at the smug look on Ramsay’s face and gave him a blank look. “The fuck is this?”

“This, my friend, is the answer to all of our problems.” Ramsay said, patting the book fondly.

“Maybe I’m too high, but...  _what_?” Damon said, leaning back in his seat and squinting at Ramsay in confusion.

“So, father asked me to stop by the post office this morning before I came into work. So I opened up the business box and pulled out all the mail. Basic boring shit. Then, this gem. It was addressed to some learning center. I was gonna drop it ff at the desk and tell them to send it back to wherever. But my hands were full, and I dropped the book and it fell open.” Ramsay began, his smirk growing the way it always did when he dived into a funny story.

“And?” Damon pressed, knowing Ramsay had paused for a dramatic effect. You didn’t know someone for twenty years and not know what to say when it was circle time.

“Well, then I dropped like half the damn mail. So I just snatched it all up and left. Thought nothing about it anymore. Dropped off the mail at the front desk, and what’s her name at the desk held me up and handed me back the magazine, thinking I had accidentally set it down with the rest of the mail. So I picked it back up and came in here.”

Damon pulled a toothpick from his pocket and placed it between his lips. “Mhm. Then?”

Ramsay stared at Damon for a few moments. His so called ‘best friend’ was such a good listener. It made him chuckle slightly before plunging on with his story.

“So, I sat down at my desk here, tossing the book aside. Made a mental note to just chuck it later. But work is slow today. And father is busy with meetings, that thankfully don’t involve me. So I pick up the book. Start flipping pages. And the more pages I flip, the more things start to click. Tell me, how often do the Boys complain about buying, uh,  _items_?”

Damon knew items meant torture weapons and clean up. And he had to admit... the hardware stores within a 60 mile radius were bound to start making connections if the cops let out anymore information on the new wave of missing persons, or mutilated bodies.

“Well, it’s starting to look suspicious. Your father has started taking notice. I heard him talking to Skinner about it. The feds are crawling all over with the whole Baratheon fiasco as it is.”

Ramsay nodded and then motioned for Damon to look through the magazine. Damon snatched up the thick book and started turning the pages. Boxes of every size. Surfboard boxes. Bicycle boxes. Mattress boxes. Ramsay watched Damon closely, smirk as broad as ever.

“So, as I’m flipping through this book, it becomes apparent to me that it’s a magazine for businesses to buy things in bulk. Heavy duty. Paper towels. Paper plates. Snack bags. Hell, even bulk coffee creamer.” Ramsay continued as Damon continued to look through the pages.

“Basic shit in the front. I was getting bored with it. You know me--” Damon snorted, throwing Ramsay a quick glance to let him know he was still listening “-- well then... I start noticing something. Outside of these items being in bulk. But they’re practical.”

“Practical as in?” Damon asked, still not seeing what Ramsay was talking about as he was looking at two pages of plastic bag sealers.

“In that magazine, there are rubber mats of every size and shape. Heavy duty ones. They have fifty five gallon drums in stainless steel, steel, and plastic. Tape for every occasion. Zip ties of every fucking size. Cleaning supplies that range in concentration and bottle size. Laboratory clean up kits. Sorbent materials for  _any_  kind of spill. Boxes of every shape and size. Safety cutters and Exacto knives. Hell, bags of every size with sealers. Super heavy duty, non-puncture fucking trash bags. Everything we need. And the best part?”

Damon looked up from the book where he had been looking at three pages full of different kinds of rubber gloves. He considered Ramsay’s question for a moment before the wheels clunked into place.

“You can buy it all in one place, and in bulk? Without having to use a real name or address?”   

“BINGO.”


End file.
